


Follow You Into The Dark

by manicstreetpeaches



Category: All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Paramore, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Aromantic!Mikey, Asexual!Dallon, Asexual!Patrick, Attempted Murder, Death, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Dealing, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Frank is hopeless, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lindsey just slays everyone, M/M, Mikey is badass, Multi, Pete Wentz flashed his dick at a funeral, Pete Wentz is a fuckboy, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Relationship Abuse, Ryan is a sex addict basically, Ryan's just a slut, Trans!Lindsey, Violence, genderfluid!Patrick, gerard is a nerd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4014889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicstreetpeaches/pseuds/manicstreetpeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People like them fit in nowhere. They were just outcasts, misfits, killjoys; whatever you want to call them. Put on this Earth to fill up the empty space. None of them know how it was a lifeless drug dealer and Pete Wentz's crave for cocaine that brought them all together, but it was. And the result of this? The result was spectacular. </p><p>In their eyes, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow You Into The Dark

Frank Iero was the guy who allegedly set someone's car on fire. Maybe the owner of the car happened to still be inside, maybe they didn't, but the fact of the matter was that Frank didn't give a shit. 'You mess with a drug dealer and your car goes up in flames' isn't a thing people say for no reason, right? Still, the looks of disgust he got as he roamed the halls of his new school didn't fail to make him laugh. Apparently because he was a seventeen year-old transfer student with tattoos and skinny jeans that barely let his balls breath instantly made him an outcast, or whatever you want to call those types of people. He was just there to provide the footballers with the steroids and the hippies with the weed, and that's all he was needed for. It was because of his drug-dealing reputation that he was now stuck in some shithole school people liked to call Belleville High. If there's one thing he'd learnt from blowing up someone's car, it'd be that he shouldn't do it when surrounded by people. Especially if those people happened to be school inspectors.  
   Belleville High. Belleville High truly was the epitome of shitty places. It looked shitty, and it was filled with shitty people. Nothing ever changed. And if it did, people tended not to like it. There were a handful of people who were considered outcasts, people who were considered 'too fucked up' to hang around the other kids in the school. People who wore too much eyeliner and idolized Kurt Cobain, or that one kid named Pete Wentz who whipped his dick out at a funeral one summer. Nobody really understood how it was Pete Wentz's crave for cocaine that brought these outcasts together, but it was. And the result? The result was spectacular.

~•~

  
Pete Wentz stood in the corner of the cafeteria with his head hung low, occasionally shooting hopeful glances towards one table in particular across the room.  
"Joe," He elbowed the guy that was stood next to him and nodded towards the table. "What's the new guy's name?"  
Joe looked up through his 'fro of brown curls. "Think it's Frank, he's in my chem class."  
"He the drug dealer?" Pete asked, wiggling his eyebrows.  
Joe shot him a disapproving glance. "You know Patrick won't like the fact that you're messin' around with drugs again."  
Pete sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "We all mess around with drugs Joseph. Even 'trick does from time to time."  
"Yeah but Pete you mess around with drugs all the time dude. It's not safe."  
"Whatever, are you comin' or not?" Pete sighed out, approaching the table Frank was sat at.  
Joe looked back at Pete coldly, before sighing in defeat and following behind him slowly.  
Pete and Joe slid into two chairs across from where Frank was sat. "So little man, I hear you deal drugs."  
Frank stopped chewing his food and looked up at them both, flicking his eyes between the two.  
Pete shuffled in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable under Frank's intimidating glare. "Um, I'm Pete. And this is Joe," he said indicating to the guy sat next to him.  
Frank continued to chew his food, before clearing his throat and raising an eyebrow. "What did you call me?"  
"I'm sorry?"  
"You called me little man," Frank stated obviously.  
Pete scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, uh, I didn't mean anything by it--"  
"I get it, I'm five foot six and your dick is probably longer than me, but call me that again and your balls will know about it."  
Pete inhaled sharply and was about to say something before Frank cut in. "So what're you looking for?"  
"Oh right, um," Pete darted his eyes sideways at Joe before shifting in his seat nervously and replying with a quick "Coke."  
Before Frank could reply, a short, slightly plump boy with chestnut brown hair approached the table. "Pete fucking Wentz!"  
Pete buried his head in his hands before plastering a smile on his face and looking up at the boy. "Sup, 'trick?"  
"What's up? You gave me a fucking flat tire you prick." It was at that moment that he noticed Frank. "Who's this?"  
Frank pushed his empty sandwich container to the side and smirked up at Patrick. "Frank Iero, pleasure."  
Patrick pulled a chair up next to Pete and sat down. He forced a small smile on his face and introduced himself, before turning to Pete and pushing his glasses further up his nose. "Mind telling me why you drove a knife through my tire? Do you have any idea how much that's gonna cost?"  
Pete furrowed his eyebrows, as if confused, and reached a hand out towards Patrick's neck.  
Patrick flinched and jerked away slightly as the hand neared him and Pete quickly dropped it.  
Frank shook his head and sighed. "Do you want the drugs or not?"  
There was a long pause, before Patrick sighed inwardly. "Is that why you slashed my tire? So I'd be late for school and you'd be able to buy fucking drugs before I got here?"  
Pete looked around frantically, hoping to find a way out of the situation he'd got himself into, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted one of his favorite gays entering the cafeteria.  
Pete stood up and turned in his direction. "Ryan Ross get your ass over here!"  
Patrick sighed and turned to Joe, who had been silent the entire time. "Why didn't you try and stop him?"  
Joe held his hands up in defense. "Don't look at me, you know what he's like."  
A few people were shooting Pete distasteful looks, but once he saw that Ryan was making a beeline towards him, he didn't give a fuck.  
Ryan reached the table and grinned up at Pete. "Peter Wentz. How long has it been since we last fucked?"  
"Too long, my friend, too long."  
Ryan's grin expanded at that, and he pushed past Pete to claim his seat. Pete punched his arm playfully and pulled another chair up to the table. Ryan stared over at Frank. "You that new guy everyone's talking about?"  
Frank shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Probably not, considering the entire school fucking hates me already."  
Ryan snorted. "Don't worry, they hate anyone who isn't straight or good at sport. I, unfortunately, fall under none of those categories."  
The corner of Frank's mouth tugged up as he pushed a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes.  
Pete turned to Frank and sighed. "Is there any chance I can still get those drugs?"  
Frank smiled at him sympathetically. "Sorry dude, I don't think that's such a good idea."  
Pete sighed dramatically once again and lent his arms on the table. "You're a drug dealer though, you're supposed to deal drugs. It's your job."  
Frank's eyes flicked over to Patrick before focusing on Pete again. "I don't deal to addicts," he said bluntly.  
Pete knew immediately Frank had lied, yet he still looked a little taken aback. "You think I'm an addict?"  
Frank shrugged nonchalantly. "I know an addict when I see one."  
Patrick placed his hand on Pete's shoulder, mouthing a silent 'thank you' to Frank.  
Pete's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand across his face, saying nothing.  
The table fell silent for a moment, before a taller boy with a blond streak cutting through his tousled brown hair made his way towards them. "Pete, I got that guy's number you wanted." He held out a piece of crumpled paper towards Pete.  
Pete's face broke out into a grin and he turned around to face the skunk-haired boy, taking the piece of paper from him and shoving it into his back pocket. "Thanks Jack. Where's Alex?"  
Jack forced a slight smile. "He should be here any minute."  
Pete nodded. "You wanna wait with us?"  
Jack peered over Pete's shoulder at the people who were already sat around the table. "Oh, uh, I'm okay. I hardly know any of those guys."  
Pete smirked. "Since when has Jack Barakat ever backed down from a potential fuck?"  
The corners of Jack's mouth twitched up slightly. "I'm just worried about Alex."  
Pete slapped his arm playfully and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. He handed it to Jack and winked, before pulling yet another chair up to the table and sitting down in his own. "Alex'll be fine. Besides, it's usually him worrying about you."  
Jack nodded in agreement and took a seat at the table. He pulled a lighter from his jeans pocket and lit the cigarette, bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag. He exhaled the smoke in Pete's face, causing Pete to grimace and splutter slightly, throwing a 'fuck you' Jack's way. Jack just grinned and took another long drag of the cigarette.  
Frank raised one eyebrow and stared over at Jack. "Are you allowed to do that in here?"  
Jack snorted and leaned forward in his seat. "In this shithole, nobody gives a fuck what you do."  
Frank started to dig around in the front pocket of his denim jacket and retrieved a cigarette. "Can I borrow a light, then?"  
Jack nodded and slid a lighter across the table towards him. Frank grabbed it and quickly lit his cigarette. Taking a drag from it, he slid the lighter back across the table to Jack who pocketed it and stumped out his cigarette. "Thanks," Frank mumbled, the cigarette hanging between his lips loosely.  
Jack glanced down at his lap, his hands fidgeting with something for a minute before he looked back up at Pete. "Alex texted. He said he'd be here any minute."  
Pete smiled over at him brightly and started to drum his fingers against the table softly. A few minutes later, another person hurriedly walked over to the table, brown hair disheveled and chest heaving for breath.  
"Fucking hell Alex did you run to school?" Jack said, standing up and offering Alex his seat.  
Alex nodded and collapsed into the chair. "I'm so fucking late." He dropped his head to his hands.  
"It's only school, nothing to get worked up over," Joe sighed, as if the thought of school saddened him.  
Pete shook his head and began introducing the people sat at the table to Alex and Jack. "I'm Pete," he said to Alex, indicating to himself. "That's Frank, Patrick, Joe and Ryan." He pointed to each person as he said their names.  
Alex offered a small smile as Jack busied himself with finding a place to sit. He eventually found an empty chair and pulled it up to the table in between Pete and Alex.  
The table fell silent again for what seemed like forever. Ryan sighed, leaning his head on his hand as he gazed longingly at a boy that was stood across the room.  
"Looks like someone's got a boner for Brendon Urie," Pete snorted, causing Ryan to shoot a glance towards his crotch before kicking Pete under the table.  
Ryan groaned and dropped his head to his hands. "Man, you have no idea. I'd do anything to fuck that guy."  
"What's stopping you from fucking someone right now? I'll even volunteer myself. Right here, right now. On this table." Pete patted the space on the table in front of Frank.  
Frank grimaced and noticeably shivered, taking a final drag of his cigarette before stumping it out against the table. "Please don't do that. I might have to throw myself out of a very tall building."  
Pete winked at Frank, turning to Ryan again and doing some obscene gesture involving a hand and a tongue in cheek, before getting up and walking backwards towards Brendon, all the while not losing eye contact with Ryan.  
Ryan's eyes widened. "Pete Wentz don't you fucking dare you emo prick."  
Pete stared back at Ryan in mock horror before grinning wider and breaking eye contact to turn around and make the rest of the way over to Brendon.  
Patrick cut in. "Who are those other guys with him?"  
There was a boy in an Iggy Pop t-shirt who was stood slightly away from Brendon and an ungracefully thin boy who Brendon had been talking to before the 'emo prick' had so rudely interrupted.  
Alex cleared his throat as everyone who sat around the table watched Pete talk to the two boys across the room. "Gerard and Mikey Way. The taller one, Mikey, skipped a grade I think because he's in my math class, and the one in the Iggy Pop t-shirt, Gerard, doesn't really talk that much so nobody knows a lot about him. Mikey scares me a lot though, I remember when he set our class hamster on fire." Alex stared down at his intertwined fingers, saddened by the thought of his third grade class pet being scorched to death.  
As Brendon, Mikey and Pete made their way towards the table, Gerard trailing behind lazily, a slender boy with abnormally perfect hair made his was over to the table, a smile spread across his thin lips.  
Patrick glanced over at him and grinned. "Is that Dallon Weekes?"  
"The one and only." Dallon ran a hand through his hair and pulled a chair up to the table. He gestured to everyone sat around the table, now including Brendon, Mikey and Gerard. "Quite a club you've got going here."  
"One I didn't sign up for," Frank breathed, although the corners of his mouth were turned up slightly.  
"Mind if I join?" Dallon raised an eyebrow.  
Frank shrugged and drummed his tattooed fingers on the table. "Be my guest."  
"Woah, nice tattoos dude," Joe chimed in.  
Frank smiled and grazed a hand over the letters inked on his fingers. "Thanks man."  
"What does it say?" Mikey asked curiously.  
Frank formed two fists and held them up.  
Mikey raised his eyebrows. "Halloween?"  
"Birthday," Frank replied matter-of-factly.  
Mikey nodded, and before anyone could say anything else, the Principal's voice rang throughout the entire school. " _Students of Belleville High, later this afternoon a full locker and bag inspection will be taking place due to an insignificant other found in the possession of cannabis and an unlicensed weapon. If you are found with any type of illegal or unprescribed drugs or a weapon of any sorts, you will be escorted to the police station by the security officers of the school and the police will take matters into their own hands. You will be expelled from school instantly, no questions asked, as you are not only committing a criminal offence, but you're doing so underage. Thank you, and have a nice day_."  
Everyone sat in complete silence. Frank took in a shaky breath. "Well, shit."  
Dallon wiped a hand over his face. "I'm pretty sure I have a bag of something stuffed inside my locker."  
"I'm pretty sure we all have a bag of some shit stuffed inside our lockers," Patrick mumbled.  
"Fuck yeah we do," Brendon snorted, quickly going silent as Mikey shot him a look that said 'shut the fuck up'.  
"We're all screwed," Pete breathed.  
Jack cleared his throat. "Do you think they'll arrest us?"  
Frank smirked and shook his head, leaning forward and placing his palms flat against the table. "Not if we get the fuck out of here before they can go through with it."  
Alex shook his head. "That'd be impossible, there'll be officers at every entrance and exit. The school's shit, but they're not stupid."  
Ryan smirked and leaned back in his chair. "No no, I think we could actually do this shit, if we plan it properly."  
Patrick rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and pushed his glasses up. "But the principal said the inspection is taking place later this afternoon. That gives us an hour max, if we're lucky."  
Gerard took a sharp intake of breath. "I know two guys who could help us, but we'll have to be quick."  
Everyone fell silent and turned their heads to Gerard, Mikey gaping at him like a fish. Frank looked over at Gerard with raised eyebrows and grinned widely. "He speaks."  
Gerard just smiled over at Frank, both of them not breaking eye contact as Pete began to speak. "Who're these two guys, then?"  
Gerard shook his head slightly and blinked a few times, looking around at everyone before standing up. "C'mon, I think I know where they might be, but if they heard what we just heard they won't be there for long."  
"You know, we could just climb out of a window," Frank said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.  
Pete followed everyone else's league and stood up, turning to face Frank. "Now you listen here Frank, and you listen good. I like a big dick, so that means I go big, or I go the fuck home. Climbing out a window just doesn't cut it for me, okay?" And then he turned his head towards Mikey, a smirk playing at his lips, and winked.  
Mikey scoffed, walking over and flattening out the front of Pete's t-shirt before pressing his lips to Pete's ear. "Never gonna happen," he whispered. Mikey left Pete's spine tingling as he walked over to his brother and waited for him to lead the way.

  
   As Gerard walked out of the cafeteria and down the shitty hallways of Belleville High, a trail of emo misfits following behind him, the school slowly started to fall silent around him. Each student, as Gerard passed them, were throwing them looks of disgust. Gerard's cheeks were tinted red and his breathing became uneven, and for a moment he thought it might be the start of a panic attack. He felt someone's shoulder brush against his and he looked up to see who it was, being met with hazel eyes and a comforting smile.  
"Ignore them, not one of them are worth your precious time," Frank whispered, his comforting smile now a grin. He winked, falling behind to talk with Ryan.  
Gerard turned quickly, the tips of his ears turning redder by the second, and pushed open the library door. All of them piled into the long abandoned room to find two people screaming at each other. When the heavy door wailed and finally slammed closed, the two went rigged and turned to face Gerard and the others. One was a taller guy, with a head of brown curls that could've beat Joe Trohman's. The other was a shorter girl with fiery red hair and a look that could cut glass.  
The shorter girl folded her arms across her chest and sighed in relief. "You scared me half to death, Gerard!"  
Gerard smiled shyly and took a step forward. "Sorry about that. I was hoping to speak to Ray and Bob."  
The boy with better hair than Joe Trohman smiled. "You'll probably have a hard time speaking to Bob. He disappeared behind Section K a while ago and is probably very much stoned by now."  
A bigger, more intimidating-looking guy with blond hair appeared from around one of the shelves. "Will you stop telling people I'm stoned when there are cops roaming the place searching for drugs?"  
Ray's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"  
Bob looked over the new crowd of people that had appeared in the room. "Oh, it's just Gerard and that fuckboy."  
Pete rolled his eyes and flipped Bob off. "Eat shit Bob. And stop calling me fuckboy while you're at it."  
Bob just laughed and threw himself into an armchair.  
Ray flailed his arms about. "The fucking locker inspection is happening right now?"  
Bob inspected his nails and looked up at Ray, a bored expression on his face. "Yeah?"  
Alex was freaking out behind Gerard. "Shit, shit. We're gonna get arrested. It's over. I'm going to be stuck in some disgusting jail cell with some ninety year-old pervert covered in tattoos!"  
Frank looked offended. "I'm covered in tattoos!"  
"Yeah but I hope you don't have the wrinkly penis just yet. Wouldn't be very attractive, you know, for later. In the bedroom. Or wherever we decide to do it. I don't mind, I really don't," Ryan cut in.  
Frank raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm gonna let you suck my dick?"  
"Honey, everyone let's me suck their dick eventually." Ryan winked. Frank just grinned back at him and turned to face where Ray was standing.  
Gerard sighed. "Can we just do what we came here to do?"  
The short red-head cut in. "No, you fucking can't. Because that dipshit over there," she indicated to Bob, "gave my girlfriend some jacked up pills and now she's high as shit, for the first time may I add, when the school is infested with fucking cops!"  
"Like I told you before Hayley, Alisha fucking asked for them. Clearly someone can't be that good in bed if their own girlfriend needs drugs to pull her through the experience." Bob smirked.  
Hayley made for Bob, but was pulled back by Ray.  
Frank stepped forward, now standing next to Gerard. "Alright, we came here to ask you two," he said indicating to Bob and Ray, "If you'd help us break out of this place, preferably unseen."  
"And what's in it for us?" Bob asked, sitting up in the armchair.  
"You get out of this place without getting caught. What do you say sounds better, jail or the diner down the road?"  
Ray held his hand up before Bob could talk again. "We're in."  
Everyone let out a breath of relief.  
Alex noticeably calmed down. "Thank _fuck_."  
Ray straightened up, releasing a squirming Hayley and turning to the table behind him. "Alright," he breathed, pushing all of the contents of the table onto the floor in one giant sweeping motion. "Everyone gather around, if we're gonna do this, we don't have much time. So you do what I say, when I say it. Got that?"  
Everyone mumbled and nodded their heads as they bunched around the table, staring at Ray with hopeful eyes.  
Bob stood up and placed his hands flat on the table, leaning towards Ray. "I don't do well taking orders from other people."  
Ray grinned. "Oh don't worry, you'll like what I've got in store for you."  
Patrick pushed up his glasses. "Right, so what's the plan?"  
"Right, the plan." Ray cleared his throat. "Firstly, we're gonna need to shut down the security systems. All the automatic locks, security cameras, alarms, the lot. That'll be easy enough for me to do, I'll just hack into the school's main system and shut everything down from there. Next, we're gonna need to create a distraction. And a big ass one, at that. Bob, that's where you come in."  
Bob grinned and cracked his neck to the side. "Nice."  
"Got any ideas?" Ray asked.  
Hayley chimed in, placing her hands on her hips, smirking at everyone around the table. "Please, I know how to make a self-explosive Molotov cocktail when it's needed."  
"Jesus Christ we're breaking out of school not a military base. Isn't that a little too dangerous for our tastes?"  
Hayley shrugged. "Go hard or go home, am I right?"  
"Maybe a little too hard for this situation though, Hayls," Ray sighed.  
Hayley just shrugged again and folded her arms across her chest. "What about fire crackers?"  
"That might work," Ray said hopefully as Hayley began rooting in her hoodie pocket. She pulled out a small red box and held it out towards Ray.  
"Why do you even have fire crackers on you?" Bob questioned.  
"Why do you even have dodgy fucking MDMA pills, Bob? More importantly why are you giving them to my girlfriend?"  
"Dude I told you she asked me for that shit," Bob said rather nonchalantly.  
Hayley rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well, me and Ali like to throw them at our Bio teacher's feet when he starts snoring in class. Scares him shitless."  
Ray shook his head and opened the small red box. "Shut it you two. Alright, there are five fire crackers left. Will that be enough?" He looked over at Bob expectantly.  
"Hell yeah it will."  
"Do you know what you've gotta do?"  
Bob nodded and took the red box from Ray.  
Ray smiled. "Okay good. The rest of you just need to wait until I say it's okay to leave. Front entrance should be okay. If something goes wrong, Bob will text me, but we'll most likely know if something goes wrong. Mikey, Ryan, join Bob and make sure he doesn't get himself into too much shit, okay?"  
Ryan and Mikey nodded and followed Bob towards the door.  
Ray shouted over to Bob. "When you get my text, that's when you do what you have to do, got it?"  
Bob just grinned and nodded, before pulling open the door, leaving with Mikey and Ryan trailing behind him.  
Ray pulled out a laptop from underneath the table and opened it up. After a few minutes of silent tapping, the laptop screen filled up with white coding, and before he knew it he was texting Bob to give him the OK and telling everyone to make their way to the main entrance. He quickly shut the laptop and followed everyone else out of the library, making sure to lock the door behind them.

   As they walked down the oddly empty hallway, Frank and Gerard walking beside each other silently, there was a sudden bang that echoed throughout the entire school, followed by loud screams that sounded like they were coming from the cafeteria.  
Pete smirked. "At least we know Bob got the text."  
Before anyone could reply, another bang echoed throughout the school and a security guard rushed past them all, not apologizing when he knocked into Hayley.  
"Dickwad," Hayley mumbled, holding her upper arm.  
Dallon furrowed his eyebrows. "You okay? He knocked into you pretty forcefully then."  
Hayley smiled up at him and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."  
"Where's your girlfriend, anyway? Is she gonna meet us? Because once Bob and the others get back we can't wait around for long," Gerard said, turning a corner and spotting the entrance further down the hallway.  
"I'm gonna go find her. She's high and not in a good place, so it's probably not a good idea to leave her on her own."  
Gerard nodded and watched Hayley walk away as they all came to a stop at the entrance, completely empty of any security guards. Gerard shrugged. "Looks like Bob's distraction worked."  
Just as the words left his mouth, an out of breath Mikey came running towards them, Bob and Ryan on either side of him. "Fucking go! Go go GO!" You could hear the security guards yelling and their feet pounding against the floor further down the hallway as they chased after them.

  
It took everyone a minute to process what was happening, but when they did, they were all running through the doors of the school, and not one of them looked back as they did.

**Author's Note:**

> If people like this then I guess I'll post more. The tags say a lot; this probably won't have the nicest ending, but I'm kind enough...I think. So yeah. Comment on the thing. Constructive criticism is nice. More characters will probs be added as the fic progresses. Lmao I can't write fics to save a life my friend convinced me this was a good idea.


End file.
